


Fix Him

by babybluecas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9.03, M/M, Mention of torture, One Shot, Season 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:39:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybluecas/pseuds/babybluecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s too late, it’s too late…" It’s the only thought pounding in his head, as he hurls himself at the door. He heard the guttural scream all the way downstairs. And then silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix Him

**Author's Note:**

> written before the airing of 9.03

_ It’s too late, it’s too late… _ It’s the only thought pounding in his head, as he hurls himself at the door. He heard the guttural scream all the way downstairs. And then silence.

When the door finally gives up and bursts open, he  _ knows _ it’s too late. There’s blood dripping from the silver blade in her hand, running down his body, soaking the floor red. There’s just so much blood and no movement from Cas sprawled lifelessly on the floor.

And then she attacks them, before Dean can move and it all goes quickly, with the image from his nightmares on the periphery of his sight. Sam holds her down, he stabs with her own sword. Her grace explodes, sips through her stolen skin, but Dean’s mind is already somewhere else.

He turns around and kneels down next to Cas. There are shallow, long gashes stretched along his torso – she took her time with him. And then there’s the final blow, piercing his guts all the way to his spine. A hole where blood still keeps pumping out. It looks fatal; rushed but precise and Dean chokes at the sob that’s trying to escape his mouth, stares like frozen at his friend’s pale face.

Luckily, Sam’s there, right next to him and he manages to hold it together. So when with a sharp gasp and a stream of blood escaping his mouth, Cas opens his eyes, Sam’s hand is already there, putting pressure on the wound with a piece of folded cloth. Sam’s saving his life for now, but Cas has only got minutes, at best.

“Shh, Cas, it’s okay, it’s not that bad,” Dean whispers soothingly to Cas, who’s panting, choking on blood and fighting for air. Dean cradles his head on his lap and watches him slip away.

“You gonna do something, you son of a bitch?” Dean finally snaps and shouts out to no one.

Nothing. It can never be easy, can it? With Cas shaking and dying in his arms, he has to make that stupid choice between his life and sustaining the lie, yet Zeke’s name gets caught in his throat.

Sam’s face can’t balance the fear and the confusion as Dean breaks the contact with Cas’s absent eyes and looks up at him, pissed and determined and so child-like in his despair.

“Help him! You hear me there?” he yells at Sam, who’s sure his brother’s losing his mind and at the angel sleeping inside. “Z-zeke, you gotta help him,” he begs.

But it’s still just Sam, who squints at him and then presses the cloth even harder, although it’s already soaked to its last thread.

Dean swings his fist at Sam’s jaw without thinking, strong enough to knock him out, because that’s the last little thing he can do. There’s no time, he’s not letting Cas go. Not like this, not now.

The change is immediate and Dean’ll never get used to it, but with just a fraction of a second it’s no longer Sam kneeling next to him.

“Fix him, now!” His voice comes out as a scowl, but he doesn’t have to say it twice.

With Zeke’s two fingers to Cas’s forehead everything stops, just like that. Cas’s shivering and his gurgling, desperate breathing. His eyes flutter shut as his head rolls gently and rests on Dean’s lap. In a brief shot of panic, he checks on Cas’s faint pulse, under Ezekiel’s watchful eye.

“He’s asleep, Dean,” the angel explains. “I healed him, just like you asked me to.”

“Why’s he still bleeding?”

It’s not like every time Cas fixed Dean, clean and brand new. The cuts are still there, so is the stab wound, only it doesn’t look so nasty anymore, although it’s still leaking.

“It looks more plausible this way. For Sam and Castiel.” The answer sounds logical. “I can, of course, heal him fully, but it would be difficult to explain.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, you’re right. But he’ll be fine?” He barely registers his own fingers running through Cas’s hair. It was so close, he would have been dead by now. It’s not only Sam’s life he owes to Ezekiel now.

“He does require medical help, but his life is no longer in danger,” Ezekiel assures him and that’s when Dean can finally breathe.

“Alright, hand over the wheel and we’ll get him to the hospital.” Dean pulls Cas up and cradles his unconscious body in his arms, his head resting peacefully on his shoulder, as if he wasn’t a step away from death just a minute ago.

“And Zeke?” Dean adds, having made sure he’s still talking to the angel. “Thanks, I owe you a big one.”

To that Ezekiel tilts his head and says last words, right before handing control back to Sam.

“You do not owe me anything, Dean Winchester.”

  
  



End file.
